Kuala Lumpur or as the city people call it ‘kota rayaku’ is the best place for Malaysians to try their luck in making a better life for themselves.

IF they are lucky enough.

As in every big city, there will be some of those who are unfortunate enough to have tried their best but ended up on the streets. Some had been chased away by their family members while others had just given up on their dreams.

It was a chilly Friday night. The wind was blowing and the trees were dancing as if they are celebrating the upcoming weekend.

As I was driving down the empty street in Pudu, it’s hard not to notice these people -- down on their luck.

Some were already sleeping on the staircase of Kota Raya while others were still wandering around, perhaps to find food or to seek the company of their fellow homeless friend.

No one knows their real story unless they tell you themselves, but from my experience, the stories keep on changing.

“Oh, my sister chased me away saying I was a bad seed and that I’m a disgrace to the family. I tried working but I got fired in a week and it left me with no choice but to sleep here on the street,” said one scraggy young man when I first met him two years ago.

A couple of weeks ago I met the same young man at the staircase of Maybank Tower. He didn’t recognise me. So I asked him again why he’s on the streets. This time it was a different story.

“I’m ill and my family are ashamed of me so they asked me to leave. I can’t work due to my illness so I don’t have a choice but to stay on the streets,” he said.

When asked about his illness, he simply shook his head and walked away.

On that night, I was back on the streets with a small group of working ladies living around the Klang Valley who made it a point to provide food every Thursday and Friday for the homeless to survive in the city. It was a cold wet night but you could feel the warmth of love.

In the cold wet weather, the ladies gathered in a parking lot on Jalan Melaka, situated in the heart of Kuala Lumpur. A group of ladies providing a home cooked meal for the homeless.

Instead of distributing packed meals like what other normal soup kitchens do, they provide hot meals and let the homeless people pick their own food, just like a buffet. They would then sit with this group and watch a movie or two together.

"Why not let them feel like they are at home for just a few hours instead of just letting them eat alone by on a dirty alley?” said one of the ladies.

They brought a projector and a big screen to the location for the people to watch a movie while enjoying their meal. A truly home experience for a few hours! But God had other plans for them.

It was raining and so, there will be no movie for the night! Sigh. Just like what John Lennon sang to his son: "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans".

I asked the ladies of their plans now. One of them replied: “We don’t have a choice but to pack the food and distribute them to the homeless."

Without wasting any more time, they started packing the rice, chicken curry, vegetables and salted egg into dozens of polystyrene boxes.

At 9.40pm, they all went out in the rain. Freezing and shaking, they built their courage to walk in the rain. It was all in the name of humanity.

Some had umbrellas, as for the rest, they just walked unsheltered in the rain and embraced the water falling down on their faces.

The rain was pouring as if it came straight from a shower hose. The rainwater danced on the roof of cars parked along the road and I could hear murmuring of the rain from their windows. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.

I wondered how the homeless survived the cold weather. You could actually feel the wind creeping into your bones.

On the footstep of an electrical shop, an old man in his 50s or 60s was sleeping. He wasn’t shivering in the unfriendly weather. Neither was he a sweater or had a blanket to cover himself from the cold wind. I offered him the food I brought with me.

“How are you uncle? Aren’t you cold?” I asked him.

I noticed his eyes. They were dark brown and glittering as if loneliness was his best friend.

“A little, but I’m already used to it. Thank you for the food," he said while raising his grey eyebrows a little and removed his stare from my face and down to the floor.

I saw him raising his hand into the air to say his prayer before eating.

What was his story? Was he married? What about the children? Did he have any? Family? Brothers or sisters? I didn’t have the heart to ask him.

As he opened the packaged food, he leant against the wall of the shop, cross legged and started to touch his food with his dirty fingernails.

He had a nice blue t-shirt, covered by a shabby looking olive green jacket. The jacket was all he could use to keep him warm. No blanket, no sweater.

As I walked on, I saw two men running, soaking wet while trying to find shelter at one of the nearest shops. As they sought refuge at one of the closed premises, I noticed one of them reaching into his pocket and taking out a mobile phone.

I switched my glance and continued walking. It was already past midnight and the ladies had accomplished their mission.

Maybe some of us wondered why these ladies bothered to spend their time and money on someone who is not related to them. Why are there non-profit groups who would go out almost every night to provide food for the homeless?

The answer is simple; LOVE. It's that single act of humanity that drives them to reach out to the unfortunate folks and try their hardest to understand them. They helped because they care.

As the saying goes, one helping hand can make all the difference in the world. As one of the ladies described it: “It is a humbling experience”.